


Cookie sticks

by Winterlynne_Norvic



Series: It started because of you (an Andreil mini series) [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Don’t @ my title yall, Fluff, M/M, Self-Indulgent, This is after canon, and probably ever will, canon continuation I guess, fluffiest shit I’ve ever written, its a miracle, its been the name of the fic the whole time, like I actually didn’t call the doc Untitled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 19:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterlynne_Norvic/pseuds/Winterlynne_Norvic
Summary: Andreil go for a morning run, Andrew realizes a few important things.





	Cookie sticks

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be angst but I failed miserably so have a bucket of the fluffiest shit I’ve ever written!
> 
> (If you want to know just how angsty this was supposed to be listen to the song give me my name back by Meg Mac. Maybe next time I’ll actually succeed at writing a break up fic)

Andrew felt like his lungs were in a vise slowly getting crushed by the metal jaws being tightened. 

He felt like he might die truth be told.

Andrew could hear wheezing and thought that might be him making that ridiculously pathetic sound.

Agony. 

Andrew was in acute agony.

How horrible.

He had no idea how Neil ran for fun everyday. He had no idea how Neil had managed to rope him into it either. One would think Andrew would be used to physical activities such as running. Afterall, Andrew played as the starting goalie for the palmetto state foxes, class I exy team. 

One would be immensely wrong for thinking anything resembling the above statement.

Usually Andrew would be glad for proving someone wrong even for something so petty. Instead he felt like banging his head against a wall and claiming he was too injured to ever move again because frankly, it should have been impossible for Andrew to be this out of shape.

Neil would call Andrew a drama queen if he could hear Andrew’s thoughts right now, and Andrew would have to (pretend to) be agitated. Kevin claimed the title of drama queen anyway.

“Why did I agree to this again?” He asked between desperate pants for air.

Neil raised his brows, barely even sweating the bastard. “You got out of bed on your own accord when I left the room to get ready for my run this morning as I recall.”

Andrew would frown if he had the ability to (emotionally and at the moment physically).

“Lies.” Andrew says in immediate denial. For starters, he would never go running without a valid reason. “I distinctly remember making a deal that for every run with you, you would spar once with me.”

Neil tilted his head with a puzzled expression adorning his stupidly pretty features, the light unfortunately catching and perfectly illuminating his dumb auburn hair turning it from eye catching to a fiery beacon. 

“When do you think this conversation happened ‘Drew?”

Andrew growled and tried to force his mind back onto the topic at hand. “In bed this morning.” 

Not that Andrew understood what the topic at hand was even about.  _ And _ this time he hadn’t zoned out like one does when thinking about  <strike> _ kissing _ </strike> killing Neil.

“What was I wearing?” Neil persisted.

“Why does that matter?”

“Just answer the question.”

“A faded red shirt. Coca Cola logo, mostly gone. Black boxer shorts with white cats on them.” Anymore talking and Andrew would have to seriously consider some lifestyle changes if he didn’t pass out from just talking and running at the same time. The worst part being that quitting exy wasn’t even on the lifestyle change list because of the idiot beside him, 

Neil shook his head, “Allison burned that shirt remember? I haven’t worn it since after finals, and I own nothing like those shorts you described.”

Andrew would have to remedy the shorts problem, in the mean time he ground out “Fuck,” although it sounded like more wheezing. “So I’m running because a dream told me too?” 

Andrew’s overworked heart took a moment to stop beating at the exact moment he noticed Neil smiling at him (Definitely not because of the idiot, Andrew was Not weak for Neil like  _ that _ thank you very much.) 

“I think it’s cute that you subconsciously want to spend time with me.”

Andrew was having none of it however. “It’s bullshit and I hate you.”

“I know.” He replied sounding way too happy about it, and Andrew considered pulling a knife on him but his rabbity self decided to speed up and Andrew already lacking oxygen (and lowkey dying inside) just couldn’t keep up anymore.

“Fucker.” He cursed, Neil’s laughter (a truly beautiful thing) could be heard 2 streets over as well as his shouted response.

“Better luck next time.”

Andrew decided that having his own words thrown back him was annoying(ly hot) and it maybe didn’t suck to spend more time with his junky and away from others (see Kevin) as he keeled over on the sidewalk and promptly decided the prickly grass would be okay to privately die on for a bit. (Or at least until Neil came back.)

…

Neil eventually did jog back to where his boyfriend had decided he wanted to crisp in the early morning light. The sun had already begun to turn his fair skin red, not that Andrew seemed to mind. He looked like a short toasty corpse on the grass and Neil only felt slightly bad for being the cause of it.

He couldn’t deny that he liked proving to Andrew that he should definitely consider exercising more, and not with weights (even though Neil loved Andrew’s arms and fascinated about them way more than anyone  <strike> _ else _ </strike> should.)

“Want some water?” He asked dryly. (Pun 100% intended)

Silence radiated upwards. Neil wondered idly if Andrew had succumbed to the heat and sort of hoped he hadn’t cause Neil didn’t feel like being signed up to run a marathon for decommissioning their starting goalie. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved, who the hell in their right mind wears full black attire to go running in late summer anyway? 

Neil lazily kicks Andrew’s shoe to check if he still lived.

“144 percent, Josten.” Came the prompted response. 

Neil hummed nonplussed, “How about chocolate milk?”

Andrew seemed a lot more alert all of a sudden and took his time considering his reply. “143 percent,” there was a brief pause before he added, “142 if you got me a straw.”

Neil kicked his foot again with considerably more force than the first time. “They don’t have single straws at the grocery store,”

“McDonald’s?” Andrew cuts in because he is the pettiest asshole out of all the foxes (and palmetto), and while he knows Neil despised everything about the fast food chain, (even the “real” fruit smoothies) Andrew wanted a straw goddamnit.

Neil shows a rare bit of constraint and continues like he hadn’t heard Andrew, "But I figured you’d like these more anyway." Neil waves something above Andrew's head (and it isn't endearingly dumb.) "You’re now the proud owner of 2 boxes of Oreo straws, however long they may last." 

He drops them and they harmlessly hit Andrew's chest and bounce off. Andrew makes no move toward them until Neil sits down beside him with a plop and begins stretching providing Andrew with a nice view.

Also now next to Andrew is Neil's bag of groceries which Andrew empties to find his milk. He tosses Neil water and an off brand Gatorade type thing so the moron doesn't die and picks up a bag of veggie chip/sticks to eat.

"Those were mine." Neil complains without any heat. Andrew shoves a handful in his mouth and crunches them obnoxiously, barely managing to conceal him almost choking.

"Not anymore." He hopes he doesn't sound like a smoker of 22 years instead of a 22 year old smoker but the chips had betrayed him. It’s what he gets for being petty but even then, with chocolate milk and cookie straw in hand, Neil sitting beside him, the season turning to autumn, and the snacks, Andrew actually felt pretty good. And his lungs no longer felt like they were being shredded which admittedly could be considered a plus as well.

Neil begins humming something soft and it doesn’t even bother Andrew. He would be a liar to say that he wasn’t okay here, content even, a liar to say he wasn’t so fucking grateful that this wasn’t a dream.

That Neil wasn’t the pipe dream Andrew was sure he’d been.

Of course,  _ of course _ some voice inside him worried that Neil could still leave, shatter Andrew some more because maybe,  _ maybe _ Andrew cared and  _ this _ wasn’t nothing. It would be his right, Neil could say no whenever he wanted, despite the always yes that Neil had freely given, Andrew couldn’t help but take it with a grain of salt. 

It wasn’t fair to Neil though to have these doubts, when he’d put up with so much of Andrew’s shit already. Accepted it all, and accepted him. He knew everything and still gave him straws when he was petty, and ice cream when he was moody, and (memorably) a fucking  _ car _ when they weren’t even together. He respected his boundaries and Andrew’s no’s, he knew Andrew better than anyone. 

Andrew hated that he didn’t hate being known by Neil, who hadn’t even been a real person until the foxes tied him down.

Andrew bit his straw, forgetting it wasn’t plastic in the midst of his thoughts and froze in surprise.

“132 percent.”

Neil stops humming to stare at him suspiciously. “For what? That’s lower than it was 3 days ago.”

“It’s sad that you remember that.”

“Andrew.”

“I thought I was the one with an eidetic memory.” He quipped.

Neil gave him a look, “And I thought I was the liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“ ‘Omission and deflection are forms of lying, Neil.’ ” Neil quoted Andrew’s words from a few weeks ago with ease, and used against him like this they were definitely annoying. More so than earlier.

“I hate you.”

“And you want to kill me 132 percent of the time, I know. What I don’t know is why it got lower.”

“For the straws.” Andrew muttered.

_ For knowing me _ . He didn’t say.

Neil  _ hmmmms _ and Andrew is fairly sure he can see right through the flimsy reason. He can’t take the look of understanding on the moron’s face and pushes it away.

Neil lays back and continues humming again, louder and off key, but nice. He interrupts himself after a while. “I’ll buy more for you if you like them so much.”

“They’re better than cigarettes.” he agrees. Well, it sounded like agreement.

Neil goes quiet and Andrew can almost feel him thinking. “Then you wouldn’t mind quitting if I supplied you with cookie straws for life?”

Andrew should have known better than to have worded his words the way he did. With Neil Andrew sometimes had to speak like the protagonist in a book about fae. While Neil probably wasn’t fae (no one should be this damn enchanting in real life) he could twist words like the best of them.

“You know I’d buy them for you anyway.” He said when Andrew didn’t say anything. Andrew knew the words weren’t a lie. (One reason Neil was not a fae were their inability to lie, and lie Neil could do very well.)

“Why would I quit then?” It wasn’t quite anger in his voice and Neil shrugged.

“Not everything has to be a trade.” (Reason two, nothing was freely given with the fae, and Neil gave a lot.) “I know I offered it as a deal but…” he looked away and focused on something that wasn’t Andrew, “I’d buy it just because you liked them.”

Andrew considered laying off his collection of fantasy books for a while.

“I’ll think about it.” He finally said.

It wasn’t a no. Neil smiled.

“Thank you, you-“

Andrew cut him off, “If you say ‘you were amazing.’ I may stab you.”

Neil’s smile got bigger, “Well you are amazing,”

“I have knives.” He said flatly.

“Don’t worry, I promised to stay remember?”

_ You know I do _ . “134 percent, Josten.”

“Okay.”

Maybe his subconscious was on to something.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, feel free to drop a kudos or a comment cause they make my day honestly! And not to fear more is already written and on the way!


End file.
